


Cut clean from the dream that night, let my mind reset

by crispierchip



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Dirty Talk, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Spanking, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-12 19:51:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11743989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crispierchip/pseuds/crispierchip
Summary: Tyson is mid-bite - and boy is it a good bite - when Gabe says, “I’ve been thinking about it, and I think we should have sex,” and Tyson literally chokes on his donut.“Jeez, are you okay?” Gabe is asking, looking at Tyson all concerned, like this isn’t his fault.“No, I’m not okay, what the hell,” Tyson says, as soon as he’s recovered somewhat.“I just think, there’s no way sex with Ryan should be in your top five,” Gabe reasons. Then, “If it is, you’ve been having sex wrong, frankly.”





	Cut clean from the dream that night, let my mind reset

**Author's Note:**

> i've been meaning to write this story for a while, and it finally happened!
> 
> the first part reads pretty sad, but the rest is some of my best sap right there ;)
> 
> many thanks to fin for the read through, allie for giving me the ryan idea, and emily for the quick, last minute advice. you guys are awesome <3
> 
> title is from hozier and also the longest thing i've ever used, lord

Tyson can’t really pinpoint the moment he started having feelings for Ryan. He just knows they were at Gabe’s house one afternoon, messing around, and Gabe had said something funny and Ryan had laughed, and Tyson had looked at him and thought, “Oh, shit,” and that was it. Clear as day, he was fucked. Tyson had choked on his food, face burning when Ryan started lightly thumping him in the back to help him.

Things haven’t really improved from there. Which wouldn't even be that bad, if feelings were the only thing involved, but no. When Tyson gets stuck on someone, it comes with its own entire batch of supremely awkward. And it’s not even the cute kind of awkward; it’s just - it’s plain unattractive, is what it is.

Tyson laughs too loud at Ryan’s incredibly unfunny jokes, and he flushes too hard when in his vicinity, and he spends way - _way_ \- too long looking at him. Long enough that Nate basically has to knock him out of it, most times, eventually confronting Tyson about it, which ends with them both on the floor or Nate’s house, with too much ice cream and not enough alcohol.

“It’s just - he’s so _cool_ , you know,” Tyson blurts out, and - wow, he actually wasn't aware he could get even more embarrassing about his crush.

This is Nate though, whose ability to stand through Tyson’s breakdowns can only be rivaled by his being there for Tyson. He doesn’t make fun of Tyson now, just makes a vague humming sound like he’s thinking about it.

“I guess I can see your point,” he says in the end. “But are you sure?”

Tyson says that he is very, very sure.

Nate looks like he has more to say on the subject, has to say something maybe not too charitable about this, but he doesn’t, for now, and Tyson is kind grateful for Ntae allowing him to live in oblivion.

Which brings them here, in the bar restroom, after Tyson said, “I’m gonna go for it,” and Ntae dragged him away from the table.

“Gonna go for what?” Nate hisses, and there’s a panicked edge to his voice.

Tyson’s maybe had a couple, and it seems like a really good idea, right about now, to confess his feelings to Ryan. “Tell him,” he explains to Nate now, as if it was obvious.

Nate gets this look on his face like he’s in pain. “Tys,” he says, slow. “I don’t think that’s a really good idea.”

Tyson reels back, affronted. “Why do you think that?” he asks. His voice comes out a little sad, but it’s only Nate.

Nate’s lips get really white. “I just - I don’t think it’s gonna end well,” he manages.

And Tyson - he’s irrationally angry at that, at Nate taking Ryan’s side. He says as much, and it sounds even more stupid out loud than it did in his head.

“I’m not taking sides!” Nate lets out. “I’m just looking out for you,” he goes on, more quiet.

Tyson softens considerably at that, and promises Nate to look out for himself.

Nate proceeds to bury his face in his hands and let out a muffled groan. “Wait until tomorrow? For me?” he asks. He sounds pretty desperate, and even if he didn’t, Tyson would wait, for him.

“Sure,” he says easily, because he doesn’t know what Nate thinks is going to be different twelve hours from now.

Nate breathes out, visibly relieved, and ushers Tyson back to the table. He keeps an eye on Tyson for the rest of the night, cuts him off, and Tyson doesn’t even have it in him to be annoyed. Instead he settles for not so discreetly looking at Ryan, his stupid face and his even stupider arms, frankly, and even Nate can’t bring him out of it this time.

“Tys?” Ryan asks him at some point, and it doesn’t sound like it’s the first time that he’s called Tyson’s name either.

God, Tyson hopes Ryan didn’t see Tyson watching him, but even the thought of being discovered doesn’t bring out the usual embarrassment tonight. Maybe because Tyson has already made up his mind about this.

“Yeah,” he says now. He’s been drinking water for the past hour, so he’s not as drunk as he was, but still most definitely tipsy. “What is it?”

Ryan smiles like he’s laughing a little at Tyson. “I said do you want a ride home?” he asks. He’s holding his coat, Tyson’s too, and Tyson’s stomach curls.

“Sure,” he says. He starts to get up only to get pulled back down by Nate, violently.

“He can Uber,” Nate says. There’s an edge to his voice, and Tyson can’t tell who it’s directed to, but it makes him squirm nonetheless, chastised.

“It’s no trouble.” Ryan shrugs. “And it’ll be quicker than an Uber.”

“Sounds great,” Tyson says. He tries to get up but Nate’s got a vice grip on his shirt, pulling him back, and now he’s starting to get to Tyson. “Dude,” he hisses. “What are you doing?”

Nate gives him a very pointed look that makes Ryan look away, awkward. “Remember what you promised me,” Nate says cryptically.

“Yes, okay, fine,” Tyson mumbles quickly. It’s not like he's gonna go puke his feelings all over Ryan in the car. Tyson glares at Nate in the hopes that his angry gaze is going to make Nate release his hold, and when that doesn’t work, he mumbles, “Dude, stop being weird,” and that does work.

Nate presses his lips together and lets Tyson go, then watches him and Ryan like a hawk as they leave the bar.

“What was that all about?” Ryan asks once they’re in the car. He’s smiling still, and he hands Tyson his gloves when he sees him rubbing his hands together.

“Thanks,” Tyson says, stomach curling happily as he pulls them on. “Just Nate being weird.”

Ryan seems to believe that. He shrugs and turns the key in the ignition, and hot air blasts in Tyson’s face. “Is that good?” Ryan asks. “You want me to turn it up higher?”

Tyson - he really meant what he said. He’s not gonna puke his feelings all over Ryan in the car, that would be seriously uncool of him. But that doesn’t stop him from thinking about it, thinking about him and Ryan together, and it's nothing explicit but it’s got Tyson’s face burning anyway, has him choking on his own breath as he tries to answer Ryan.

“Yeah, it’s - it’s fine,” He manages after a moment, heart in his throat, as he looks at Ryan.

Ryan looks at him for a moment, and then Tyson - he has no idea why this moment in particular is any different from all the other moments he and Ryan have been alone together. He has no idea why, but it’s like everything that he’s got in his chest finally tips over in that moment, has him leaning in and kissing Ryan too harshly, a mere press of lips.

Ryan pulls away first, and Tyson’s heart is beating everywhere, his ears and his fingers and his throat. Ryan looks at Tyson, very clearly confused, and Tyson wants to look away except he can’t, he’s caught, just like every other time he looks at Ryan.

“Tys,” Ryan says, this quiet, shaky thing, and Tyson wants to puke.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out, “I didn’t mean that.”

“Tyson,” Ryan just says, and he sounds - fuck, Tyson thinks he sounds pitying, and he hates this so much.

“Just - forget everything,” Tyson tells him quickly. “I’ll just - I’ll Uber back to my place and we’ll never speak of this again,” he says.

Tyson starts to get out of the car, but then Ryan’s hand is on his arm, too tight, holding him in place. “Wait,” Ryan says.

The next three seconds are the longest of Tyson’s life. He just stays there, too still and staring at Ryan until Ryan leans in again to brush their lips together, and it’s so much better this time. There’s no harsh press of lips, just light pressure, and Tyson can hardly breathe, it feels so good. He’s lightheaded, by the time Ryan pulls back, and he tries to chase Ryan’s lips. Ryan gives him another kiss, chaste this time, and then he pulls back for real.

“We can’t do this in the car, Tys,” he explains. He looks a little flustered, and it’s good to know, that Tyson is not the only one affected by this.

“Yeah, that’s - ” Tyson shakes his head. “Good point,” he says lamely.

Ryan chuckles. He runs a hand through his hair and Tyson looks at him for too long. “My place?” Ryan suggests. “Does that work for you?”

Tyson - _does that work for him_. Tyson wants to fucking scream, this is so surreal. “Yeah,” he says, and it comes out kind of dumb sounding.

“Good,” Ryan says. He was flushed before but he’s back to his normal self now, cool and composed and all the things that Tyson spends too long thinking about. He turns back to the wheel, and Tyson is left looking at him again, looking at Ryan’s profile, thinking about how his lips felt pressed against Tyson’s, and Tyson never really had much chill to begin with.

Ryan pulls out of the parking lot and then there’s nothing left to do other than sit there and try not to think about what’s coming, because Tyson doesn’t want to seem totally uncool; he’s seen the girls Ryan usually talks to, Tyson doesn’t think Ryan likes uncool. Tyson makes it through the drive by the skin of his teeth and wonders if it’s the same for Ryan; hopes it is.

Ryan offers him some water when they’re inside, and Tyson doesn’t really want water. He mostly wants Ryan’s tongue in his mouth, but it’s not like he can say that without sounding desperate, so he accepts the water and drinks it too quickly.

Ryan watches him. He watches Tyson swallow, and it’s so intense, Tyson almost chokes. Tyson finishes the glass and hands it back to him, and Ryan just keeps watching him, expectant, and Tyson is probably going to have to bite the bullet on this one.

“What now?” he asks, shaky, and then Ryan’s closing the distance between them, pressing Tyson against the counter, and Tyson’s breath actually cuts out for a moment. All he can feel is Ryan’s chest, the warmth of his skin and his breath, coming slowly.

“Now it’s whatever you want,” Ryan says. His voice is low and rough and Tyson’s stomach is curled so tightly. He feels like he might start shaking any minute, and his ears are burning.

Tyson has to fight through all that on top of his embarrassment before saying, “I want you,” in the least sexy voice possible.

Ryan doesn’t seem to mind. He smiles and brings his hand up to cup Tyson’s cheek, and every humiliating fantasy Tyson has had in his weakest moments, it couldn't possibly compare to this, to the drag of Ryan’s palm and the roughness of his skin, the way it makes Tyson shiver.

Ryan stays like that for the longest time, and then he leans in, kisses Tyson carefully, and Tyson - this is so much already. He tries to kiss back and fails, because he can’t even think properly, not with Ryan this close to him.

Ryan doesn’t seem to mind that either. He easily takes control and presses Tyson against the counter, and Tyson thinks it’s kind of mortifying, how Ryan can feel the hard on that Tyson is already sporting.

“Eager, huh?” Ryan says, teasingly, and fits his other hand between them, to rub over the bulge in Tyson’s pants.

Tyson chokes on his breath in a truly undignified way, and manages, just barely, “You have no idea.”

Ryan hums. He dips his head down to kiss the side of Tyson’s neck, down to his shirt and then up again towards his ear, and Tyson really is shaking now, can’t help it. His hands clutch at Ryan’s biceps, holding on too tightly, and his hips press into Ryan’s hand, and he’s - he’s _eager_ , like Ryan said. Honestly, Tyson has wanted this for so long, he doesn’t think he can be blamed.

“Wanna move this to the bedroom?” Ryan asks, and Tyson finds himself nodding about six times too many.

Ryan steps back then and starts loosening his tie, takes it off and lets it drop on the floor before he starts working on the buttons of his shirt. Tyson stares at the skin revealed little by little, and, when Ryan turns around, follows him up the stairs to Ryan’s bedroom.

The bed is messy, but it’s not like Tyson cares. He watches Ryan slip out of his shirt, watches as his back muscles move and flex and feels his face go hot. Ryan turns around with with a knowing smile and winks at Tyson then, and Tyson gets with the program, starts taking off his own clothes.

He fumbles with the buttons too much, enough that Ryan has to step in and help him with considerably less shaky fingers, and then they’re both naked, and Tyson can’t help the way he looks at Ryan.

Tyson thinks that should be a giveaway, just how he looks at Ryan, but Ryan doesn’t seem to notice. He just pushes Tyson back until he’s laying on the bed and then he climbs in between his legs, leans down at the same time as Tyson’s moving up and then they’re kissing again, and it’s so much better this time just because there’s that much more skin involved.

Tyson, for the first time since he started having feelings for Ryan, doesn’t shy away from looking, and he doesn’t shy away from touching either. He lets his hands roam, over Ryan’s chest and his sides and his back, feels the muscle move under his palms. He bends his legs and wraps them around Ryan’s waist, and Ryan rocks against him and it feels so good, it feels too good, it can definitely get Tyson there, but it’s also not what Tyson wants.

“Do you want to - ” he pulls back to ask, and the words get stuck in his throat, have him looking to the side, akward.

“I don’t really do this,” Ryan says, inexplicably, and Tyson can’t even start to untangle that one right now. “Not with guys, I mean,” Ryan fills in then, and Tyson gets it then. His heart flutters in his chest because that must mean this is pretty special for Ryan, that maybe he wants Tyson like Tyson wants him.

The thought gives Tyson the courage to go on. “Fuck me?” he asks. “I swear, the principle is the same,” he says, when Ryan looks unconvinced.

It makes Ryan laugh though, which is what matters. “Okay,” he says. “Talk me through it?”

Tyson doesn’t end up talking Ryan through it - he’s too embarrassed for that - as much as showing him. He coats Ryan’s fingers with lube when Ryan hands him the bottle and then he tilts his hips up and spreads his legs and Ryan takes it from there, really. He works Tyson open on his fingers until Tyson is hard and squirming with it, bating at Ryan’s arm to please get on with it.

Ryan laughs again, but it’s a pretty breathless, so Tyson doesn’t take it to heart. He hands Ryan the condom and turns over, onto his hands and knees, hears a choked off noise from behind him that has him arching his back.

“Jesus, Tyson,” Ryan is saying, and he sounds pretty far gone too.

Tyson jerks, at the first touch of Ryan’s dick on his hole, and then he breathes through it and feels Ryan stretching him open, and has to close his eyes through it, it’s so much. “Oh, god,” he breathes, fingers curled into fists on the covers, and Ryan freezes.

“Okay?” he asks. He leans in to kiss Tyson’s shoulder, then down his spine, as low as he can reach like this. Tyson shivers through it.

“Yeah,” he says quickly. “Keep going,” and then, “please,” because he can’t help this either.

Ryan kisses the back of Tyson’s neck and then he does keep going, pressing in deeper until there’s no deeper to get, and Tyson swears, his breath cuts out for a moment once he feels Ryan’s hipbones against him.

“You feel so good,” Ryan is saying. Tyson can barely hear him over the ringing in his ears.

Ryan curls a hand over Tyson’s shoulder, the other resting on his hip, and starts moving for real then, pulling out and pushing back in until Tyson is seeing only white; until he’s shaking with it. He reaches for a pillow at some point and shoves his face in it just to eliminate the chances of making embarrassing noises, and then Ryan’s weight is on him, pressing him into the mattress, pressing himself impossibly deeper into Tyson at the same time, and Tyson chokes on his breath.

“Please,” he says, can’t hold it in any more. Ryan kisses his shoulder, more biting this time, and links their fingers together on the bed, holding on.

There’s no room for Tyson to get a hand around himself like this so he just ends up rocking against the sheets, dry. It chafes, but it’s getting him there, the friction and Ryan inside him, holding him open, and Ryan in general, and Tyson never really stood a chance here.

“Fuck,” he chokes out. He arches his back impossibly more, until his waist actually aches with it, and then everything feels too good, has him biting the pillow under his head to keep quiet.

It honestly doesn’t take much after that. Ryan thrusts a few more times and the angle is too good and then Tyson is coming, such a relief he can’t even put it into words. That must do it for Ryan too, because his rhythm falters and his hips shake, fingers clenching around Tyson’s, and then he stills on top of Tyson.

If Tyson could stay like this forever, he probably would.

Tyson can’t though. Ryan gets up, a few seconds later with a groan, and Tyson takes the pillow out of his mouth and rolls onto his side. His eyes fall shut and the next thing he knows is Ryan slipping into bed with him, pulling the comforter over them and curling himself around Tyson, and Tyson will take this gladly.

+

Tyson wakes up alone, but he doesn’t have time to worry since he can already hear Ryan puttering around downstairs. Instead he smiles, takes his time getting out of bed and into the shower, and makes it downstairs with the towel still wrapped around his hips, for easy access.

Tyson finds Ryan making breakfast, and he walks up behind him, doesn’t even second guess himself before wrapping his arms around Ryan’s waist. He gets a moment to lean up and press a kiss to the back of Ryan’s neck, and then Ryan tenses. Tyson figures maybe he’s surprised, maybe he didn’t hear Tyson, but then his eyes fall on the single plate and the lone cup of coffee on the counter, and he figures oh, maybe he shouldn't have done this.

He steps back, jerky and out of balance, and has to reach out to the counter to steady himself. It takes another moment, for Ryan to turn around, and then he gives Tyson this look, regretful and kind of pitying, and Tyson feels so naked, he feels sick to his stomach, he can hardly breathe.

“Tyson, listen,” Ryan says, and whatever isn't in his gaze is his voice, all the things Tyson doesn’t want to hear.

Tyson, abruptly, feels so ashamed, for his confidence and his ease in Ryan’s house. He thinks about everything that happened last night, all the things that he thought, that he misread, and feels oddly cheated.

“I - ” Tyson tries, but there are no words. Just a sinking feeling in stomach, a weight on his chest. “I didn’t - ” Tyson didn’t _know_ , is the thing. He never does.

“Tyson,” Ryan says again. Then, “I told you, I don’t really do guys,” and Tyson remembers hearing this last night and thinking - foolishly, arrogantly - that he was special, and god, he was such an _idiot_.

“Yeah, no, I get it,” he says now, and it’s a miracle, how he can get the words out through his throat. “I’ll just - be on my way.” He gestures towards the door and starts walking away, actually makes it to the doorstep before he realizes that he’s still got the towel wrapped around him and has to turn around. He doesn’t look at Ryan again though, doesn’t need any more pity from him.

+

Tyson goes to Nate’s. His hair is still wet from Ryan’s shower and he doesn’t even want to think about what his face looks like, but Nate takes one look at him and gets this pinched look on his face.

“Don’t say it,” Tyson tells him and his voice is thick.

Nate nods. “Wasn’t going to.”

Tyson tries and comes up with a sad excuse of a smile for him.

Nate kind of smiles back. “Have you eaten?” he asks, and it speaks volumes to Tyson’s emotional state that he doesn't even want food right now.

“I don’t really…” he trails off, and Nate nods again, ushers him into the living room.

He sits Tyson down and brings him a bottle of water, waits until Tyson’s had a few sips before asking, “Wanna talk about it?”

And Tyson doesn't ever even want to think about the humiliation he felt in front of Ryan, doesn’t want to admit to his stupidity in thinking he was special. “No,” he says.

+

Tyson’s distracted at practice. It’s not even that he spends too long looking at Ryan, like he usually does. Instead he just - he thinks about last night, how stupid he was to have expectations, how truly idiotic it was to kiss Ryan in the first place. Really, Tyson has never been one for self-preservation, but this is a new low, even for him.

The worst part is, Ryan acts as if nothing has happened. He holds out his fist for Tyson to bump when they get on the ice, then looks like a hurt puppy when Tyson just stands there, immobile, because what the fuck. Tyson bumps Ryan’s fist and skates away, trying to get it together, because all he can think about is this morning’s humiliation.

It gets bad enough that he messes up a couple of drills, and then he’s got that to feel terrible about on top of everything. He honestly can’t wait to go home so he can get in bed and eat something truly unhealthy that he’ll be regretting on the bike or the treadmill.

He’s almost made it to his car, ready to drive the fuck out of here, when Gabe catches up to him. “Tys, Tyson,” he calls, and Tyson stops in his tracks, takes a breath, because Gabe didn’t do this to him. Tyson did this to himself.

“Yeah.” Tyson turns around to face Gabe. He tries for a smile but it’s shaky, and he hopes Gabe doesn’t notice.

Gabe frowns, so he probably does. He looks like he’s about to ask, and then he shakes his head, gives Tyson this huge smile, like he’s trying to make up for Tyson's half-hearted one. “I just wanted to see if you were up for coming around later?” he asks.

Tyson thinks about his bed, about how he’ll feel later, and he doesn’t think it’s be any less humiliated. “Sorry, man, I have a few things I need to get done,” he says, and it sounds unconvincing, even to his own ears.

Gabe’s face falls, if only for a second, and then he smiles again. “Oh,” he says. “That’s okay. We can plan it for some other time.”

“For sure.” Tyson nods.

He turns around again, unlocks his car. He’s opened the door before Gabe speaks again. “Everything okay?” he asks, and it’s - Tyson doesn’t know if Gabe is trying to perform his captainly duties or what, but as much as he didn’t want to talk about this with Nate, it’s that much more with Gabe.

“Yeah,” he says. “Absolutely.”

Gabe doesn’t look convinced but Tyson doesn’t think he can keep this up anymore. He thinks the chances of him breaking down in the parking lot are looking pretty good right now, and he’s already suffered enough humiliation in the face of teammates for today - for life, maybe.

“See you tomorrow,” Tyson says, and pulls the door shut.

+

Finally getting in bed is both better and worse than Tyson thought. Better, because he finally gets to breathe and be sad, and worse, because he’s got nothing to distract him from the hot curl of humiliation in his gut, from the burning in his eyes.

He can’t help but think about Ryan, how he’d made food only for himself and said, “I don’t really do guys,” like it was a given. Like Tyson was foolish to think anything different. And maybe Tyson was. Probably, Tyson was.

+

Tyson tries to ignore everything for the rest of the day - including his phone - which is why he’s surprised when Nate barges into his house like he owns it, and proceeds to dump his ass onto Tyson’s bed, hard enough to make Tyson’s mattress jump.

“Dude,” Tyson tells him, half-hearted. He pushes the covers down a little from from where they were around his head so he can see Nate.

Nate narrows his eyes at him and then makes a face. “Have you been crying?” he asks, mildly disgusted, and Tyson jerks away from him.

“What?” he lets out. Then, a not very convincing, “No.”

Nate still looks relatively disgusted but now he looks a little sad too. “Tyson,” he says. “Ryan’s not that great,” he reasons.

Tyson says nothing.

“He’s not worth this,” Nate goes on, softer now.

When Tyson doesn’t say anything, Nate just huffs and gets under the covers. “Can’t believe this,” he’s muttering, which at least makes Tyson smile.

“Don’t front, you love cuddling,” Tyson mumbles.

“I love happy cuddling!” Nate argues. “Not this sadness,” he says.

“Nate,” Tyson - he kind of whines.

“Alright, alright.”

+

Miraculously, the cuddling makes Tyson feel better. After about an hour of it, he feels marginally more human, marginally more like facing other rooms of his house, other than the bedroom. Of course, Nate also grabs the comforter and violently rips it out of Tyson’s hands, so Tyson’s pretty much got no choice.

Getting up feels good though, and filling his mouth with the pizza Nate orders even better. After the two of them have put away the pizza, Tyson finally gets the courage to bring it up.

“You knew this would happen,” he says, and it’s not accusatory or anything, because Nate tried, he really tried to get Tyson to not do this.

Nate takes a sip of his coke and shrugs. “I knew Ryan wasn’t relationship material,” he says. “Not in the way you wanted, anyway.”

And that - it hurts, to know Nate saw it when Tyson could never.

“At least I didn’t puke my feelings all over him,” Tyson reasons.

+

The next practice is even worse, if possible. Ryan walks up to Tyson in the dressing room and looms over him until Tyson looks up from tying his skates to face him, and it’s not as though Tyson had forgotten how attractive Ryan was, but he was kind of hoping the last two days would have beaten it out of him.

“Hey,” Ryan says. “You didn’t make it to Gabe’s yesterday.”

Just like that, Tyson knows it was an extremely sound decision to not leave his house yesterday.

“Uh, I had some stuff to do,” Tyson says.

Ryan squints at him. “Nate wasn’t there either,” he says.

“Did you two have a secret party together?” Gabe asks, from Tyson’s other side, and Tyson jumps, but at least it’s a break from Ryan.

“Sure,” Tyson says slowly. “Nate and I had a secret party and invited none of you.”

“Ouch,” Ryan says.

“You wound us, Tyson.” Gabe puts his hand over his chest, faking bodily harm.

Tyson snorts. “Well, we don’t actually like you that much, so,” he says, and wishes it could be kind of true, because at least he wouldn’t feel hollow on the inside if that were the case.

Maybe it’s something in the way he says it though, because Gabe looks at him for a second too long. He frowns, then, like he’s trying to figure Tyson out, and there’s not much to figure out, really.

+

They win their game that night, and the team goes for drinks after, to celebrate. Ryan will be there, of course, and Tyson seriously considers not going, but the prospect of getting drunk wins over his self-preservation instincts. Still, he ends up drinking too much, and usually he’s a relatively happy drunk, but tonight he’s just - sad.

It doesn’t go unnoticed, not by Gabe at least. Gabe spends too long watching Tyson, and, when EJ gets up to get the next round, takes his spot next to Tyson. Nate has been keeping an eye on Tyson for the whole night, or at least making sure Ryan won't talk to him, and he eyes this move wearily from Tyson’s other side. He’s got to get up at some point though so he can use the bathroom, and Gabe chooses that moment to pounce.

“What’s up with you?” Gabe asks, cutting straight to it. He nudges his elbow against Tyson’s, and Tyson feels his whole body move with it.

Tyson looks at Ryan, sees him getting up from their table and walking across the bar to where a bunch of girls are, hears the team hollering for him. He watches Ryan buy the girls some shots, and he closes his eyes, rests his head on the table.

“I slept with Ryan,” he blurts out, and it’s quiet. Tyson hardly thinks Gabe made it out, but when he peeks at him from the corner of his eye, Gabe’s eyes are wide, his face pinched like he just tasted something sour.

It makes Tyson smile, for a moment. Then Gabe’s eyes are following Ryan across the room, and Gabe must be able to see him talking to those girls, and Tyson feels his face heat with shame, remembering all over how stupid he was.

“I’m guessing…” Gabe starts, “It didn’t go well?”

Tyson snorts. The actual sleeping together went great, and he tells Gabe as much. “Top five, easily,” he says, and Gabe snorts.

“I doubt that,” he says. He’s looking at Ryan still, and Tyson can’t exactly make his expression out from this angle but he thinks Gabe is mad, shooting daggers in Ryan’s direction.

“Please don’t say anything,” Tyson begs. He sits up so he can meet Gabe’s eyes, try to convey how much he means it.

Gabe seems taken aback. “Tys, I wouldn’t,” he says. Then, a moment later, “But top five?” he sounds pretty peeved to be honest, and he’s frowning as he says it, like he really can’t believe it.

“Top five, man. It was really good.” Tyson shrugs.

“I didn’t think Factor had it in him,” Gabe says.

Tyson is too drunk to think better of his joke, so he just says, “He wasn’t the one with it in him,” and laughs.

Gabe stares at Tyson and his humor.

+

Tyson thought that would be the end of it, but Gabe shows up at his house the next morning. He brings coffee and donuts and makes himself at home, and Tyson - still hangover - tries to make sense of it all. Gabe usually prefers to make fun of Tyson for his sweet tooth, not enable him.

“Uhm,” he says, but gratefully takes the coffee from Gabe’s hands.

“I’ve been thinking about it,” Gabe starts.

“Oh boy we better watch out,” Tyson says, an automatic response really, and Gabe rolls his eyes.

“I’m not giving you any donuts if you’re rude to me,” he says, actually moves the donuts out of Tyson’s reach.

“Dude,” Tyson says, because that is seriously uncool.

“Be nice,” Gabe warns.

“I’ll be nice, fine, just give me the food,” Tyson mumbles.

That seems to appease Gabe and he hands over the box of donuts. Tyson is mid-bite - and boy is it a good bite - when Gabe says, “I’ve been thinking about it, and I think we should have sex,” and Tyson literally chokes on his donut.

“Jeez, are you okay?” Gabe is asking, looking at Tyson all concerned, like this isn’t his fault.

“No, I’m not okay, what the hell,” Tyson says, as soon as he’s recovered somewhat.

Gabe has the decency to look away, and Tyson thinks he may be blushing? Anyway, it’s a sight, and a personal win for Tyson, to make Gabe’s face heat like that. “I just think, there’s no way sex with Ryan should be in your top five,” he reasons. Then, “If it is, you’ve been having sex wrong, frankly.”

“Why do you say that?” Tyson says, a little whiny, because he certainly knows how to have sex, he’s got that sort of knowledge under his belt.

Gabe rolls his eyes, then gives Tyson a look like he shouldn’t even be asking. “I’ve seen Ryan’s game. It’s not very good,” he says.

Tyson splutters around for something to say to defend Ryan because he and Ryan - there is no he and Ryan. He and Ryan is a laughable concept right now.

Tyson sighs. He feels something heavy on his chest, curling tightly around his ribs, and he thinks - why not. The answer would obviously be, he and Gabe are teammates, but that has literally never stopped Tyson before, no matter how many times it ends badly because Tyson’s self-preservation instincts? Inexistent, as established before.

“Okay,” Tyson says. He picks up another donut and goes to town on it.

“Okay?” Gabe asks. “That was easy.”

Tyson licks the powdered sugar from his lips and doesn’t miss the way Gabe’s eyes follow the movement. “You said I was having sex the wrong way,” he says. His voice drops lower, and he holds eye contact with Gabe, says, “Show me the right way.”

+

“The right way” turns out to be Gabe shoving his chair back hard enough that it grazes against Tyson’s floor. It’s Gabe walking around the table to Tyson’s side and throwing a leg over Tyson’s, straddling him. It’s Tyson feeling Gabe’s weight on him, holding him down, and his breath coming quicker.

“The right way” is Gabe leaning in and then some more, their lips almost brushing, and then turning to kiss Tyson’s cheek instead. “The right way” is - it’s a lot. It’s got Tyson’s lips parting, has his eyes tracking Gabe’s movements, and it’s not as if Tyson had never realized how attractive Gabe is, but it all feels amplified now, now that Tyson can feel Gabe all over.

Gabe kisses Tyson’s cheekbone, kisses his temple, slow, and Tyson’s heart is beating in his ears, in his fingertips, and he finally gives up and touches Gabe, lays his hands on Gabe’s thighs, strokes upwards a little hesitantly, then more boldly once Gabe doesn’t move away from it.

Gabe breathes over Tyson’s ear, and Tyson shivers, leans in to kiss the spot right under it, kiss Tyson’s throat while he’s at it, and Tyson is breathing so hard already because this is - it’s so slow, it’s killing him.

Tyson thought, when Gabe said that he’d show him the right way, that it’d be hard and fast, wham bam thank you ma'am, that it’d leave him with his mind blown and his body drained, but this - it’s so much different than what Tyson expected. It’s Gabe taking his time, leaving Tyson reeling from it. It’s Tyson arching up into Gabe, anticipating the next spot his lips will touch.

Tyson never really guesses right. It’s all at random, and by the time Gabe pulls back, Tyson’s skin is tingling all over, his face hot with it. Then Gabe leans in again, and this time it’s Tyson’s mouth, and Tyson parts his lips, lets Gabe do what he wants and just tries to keep it together.

Gabe - he’s a good kisser, which should come as no surprise, he seems to be good at everything. He kisses Tyson slow and through, until Tyson’s breathing hand, and then his hands are on Tyson, on either side of his face, and they feel so cold because Tyson’s skin is so flushed.

“How am I doing so far?” Gabe murmurs against Tyson’s lips, and how is Tyson even supposed to respond to that without making a blabbering fool of himself.

“Pretty good, buddy,” he manages, then wants to punch himself in the face because who even uses the word buddy during a makeout session, come on Tyson.

Gabe only laughs though, this low, low thing that makes goosebumps break out all over Tyson’s neck. “Walk me through it,” he says, which -

“Sorry?”

“You and Ryan.” Gabe kisses Tyson’s cheek, the corner of his mouth. “Walk me through it.”

“Oh god,” Tyson says. He takes a deep breath and looks to the ceiling because what did he do to deserve this. “He kissed me,” he says, when he can manage it.

Gabe smiles and kisses Tyson, soft, and it’s the exact opposite of how Ryan kissed Tyson but Tyson likes it too much to say anything.

“What then?” Gabe asks.

“He - he pushed me against the counter and kissed me there,” Tyson says, quiet and mostly awkward.

It makes Gabe climb off him, which is the exact opposite of what Tyson wants, but Gabe takes his hand then and gently pulls him up, turns them around until Tyson is facing away from the breakfast counter. He presses Tyson against it and curls his hands under Tyson’s thighs, and then he’s lifting him up jesus christ, until Tyson is sitting on the counter, Gabe nestled between his legs.

“Oh my god,” Tyson says, can’t help it, and his voice comes out shaky and just weird but he can’t even bring himself to care.

Gabe smiles again. “Like this?” he asks.

“Not quite,” Tyson says. He curls his arms around Gabe’s neck and pulls him down until their lips brush, feels Gabe murmur, “not quite, huh?” against his lips, in this tone like he already knows he’s winning over Ryan.

“Shut up,” Tyson says, because Gabe’s got a big enough head already.

“What did you do after this?” Gabe asks, smiling.

Tyson tries to fight through all the messy thoughts in his head to give Gabe a solid answer. “Ryan - he took off his clothes,” he says.

Gabe hums. He takes a step back and then he’s stripping off his jumper, his t-shirt from underneath it, and it’s - his abs, they’re all over the place. Tyson may in fact be drooling on his kitchen floor, it is an extremely likely possibility.

“Like what you see?” Gabe asks, his eyes shining with it.

Tyson tries to snort and instead it comes out as a weird breathing problem, which serves him well for trying to act cool in the first place. “Ryan wasn’t this cocky,” he says.

“Well.” Gabe shrugs and doesn’t grace that with any further response. He moves back between Tyson’s thighs instead, and Tyson wraps his legs around Gabe’s waist, pulls him even closer. Gabe stumbles a little, and then he’s laughing and Tyson is too, and it’s hard to kiss when you’re too busy smiling but they try anyways.

“Now?” Gabe asks after a few minutes, when they’ve started rocking into each other. His voice is a little rough, and Tyson can’t help but stare at his lips, red and wet and made that way by Tyson.

“Uhm,” Tyson says stupidly. He gets it together, eventually, enough to get out, “Bedroom.”

“What happened in the bedroom?” Gabe presses. He moves in and kisses Tyson’s throat, presses his lips over a spot on Tyson’s shoulder, near his collarbone, and worries the skin there until Tyson is squirming.

“He - fuck, are you really gonna make me say it?” Tyson asks. He bites his lip to keep from making too much noise, but it’s not entirely effective as a strategy.

“Yeah,” Gabe says. “I like how shaky your voice gets.”

Tyson feels his eyes actually roll a little at that. “He - he fucked me,” Tyson says, and - fuck, his voice _is_ shaky, trembles around the words.

“How?” Gabe goes on, relentless.

Tyson makes a noise. “Gabe,” he says, a little whiny. “Come on, please,” he finally says, and that seems to do it. It has Gabe stepping back and heading off towards the bedroom, Tyson scrambling to follow.

Gabe’s naked, by the time Tyson makes it there, and damn, he looks so good. Tyson is caught staring - again - and then Gabe is looking at him in a way that makes Tyson feel naked, naked and hot both at once.

“Did he fuck you with your clothes on?” Gabe asks.

It takes Tyson a second, to piece that together, and then he’s laughing, a short thing, before he starts taking off his clothes. Gabe keeps watching him, and it makes Tyson feel a little awkward, because Gabe looks like Gabe and Tyson doesn’t look like a swedish supermodel, but mostly it makes Tyson feel wanted.

Makes him walk over to Gabe confidently, and straddle him, move in until their lips touch. It’s so much better, like this, no clothes between them, and Gabe’s hands feels so good where they’re stroking Tyson’s hips. Tyson presses himself against Gabe and chokes on his breath, nails digging into Gabe’s shoulders.

“You want it?” Gabe asks him. His voice dips so low, Tyson has never heard him talk like this before.

“Yes,” he says. “Fuck, yes.”

Tyson stretches until he can reach the nightstand and pull open the drawer, grab the lube and the condoms. He dumps them on the mattress next to them, and then they’re kissing again, and Tyson doesn’t even notice Gabe’s hands are off him until his fingers are slick and rubbing between Tyson’s cheeks.

“Gabe,” Tyson breathes

Gabe mouths at Tyson’s collarbone, and Tyson thinks for sure he’s going to leave marks but he doesn’t say anything to keep Gabe from it. Instead he lets Gabe work him open, first on one and then on two, three fingers, and it becomes pretty evident that Gabe knows what he’s doing. He works to find the angle that works for Tyson and then he’s relentless with it, keeps going until Tyson’s breathing hard, his entire face flushed with it.

“Did he do it like this?” Gabe asks then, as if Tyson wasn't already actively dying, and Tyson has to stumble through a choked off, “No, definitely - just.”

Gabe chuckles but it’s not mean, and he kisses the spot behind Tyson’s ear again. “Good?” he asks.

Tyson is nodding before Gabe is even finished asking. “It was hands and knees - with Ryan,” he offers.

Gabe’s face falls for a second but Tyson doesn’t think anything of it, just kisses his lips once and climbs off him. He gets on his hands and knees, hears Gabe reach for the condoms behind him, and grabs one of the pillows to shove under his hands, just in case he gets too loud.

Gabe puts his hand on Tyson’s waist, and then he guides himself into him, and it’s - it makes Tyson see stars, almost. He breathes through the stretch of it and feels Gabe lean over him, both feels and sees him linking their fingers together on the mattress, and thinks that this is going to be his downfall.

Tyson squeezes Gabe’s fingers hard, probably too hard, when Gabe's starts moving, and he’s having such a hard time getting air into his lungs. Gabe kisses the back of his neck and every other place he can reach, and then he moves again and it feels so good, it feels about as good as Tyson’s ever had it.

“Oh god,” he says. He wants to get a hand around himself but Gabe’s holding both his hands, and Tyson doesn’t really want to let go.

“Does it feel good?” Gabe asks, and it actually sounds - it sounds like he may not know, and Tyson can’t have that.

He squeezes Gabe’s fingers again and says, “It feels so good, Gabe,” and his voice trembles, his breath right along with it, and Gabe _has_ to know, he has to, now.

Gabe lets go of Tyson’s hands then, wraps his arm around Tyson’s stomach instead and pulls him up, until Tyson’s sitting in his lap. Tyson chokes on his breath because that - it feels so much deeper, and Tyson could barely handle it before how is he supposed to cope with this now.

He tries to imagine it being this way with Ryan, and he just - he can’t. He can’t imagine sex being this intense with Ryan, and Tyson doesn't know if it’s because of what happened the morning after or what, but he just can’t, he can’t imagine it.

“Rank me,” Gabe breathes in Tyson’s ear. His arm is so tight around Tyson’s stomach, and Tyson’s head is resting on his shoulder, and this is all so much. “Rank me,” Gabe says again, when Tyson doesn’t answer.

“Are you fucking - ” Tyson never gets to ask his question because Gabe wraps his hand around him then, and he’s gonna come so hard, fuck.

“I’ll help,” Gabe offers. “Am I top twenty?”

“Jesus christ,” Tyson lets out. “Yes,” he says.

He can’t see it, but Tyson can imagine Gabe’s smile. “Top fifteen?”

Gabe starts stroking Tyson, and Tyson can hardly think, how’s he supposed to _rank_? “Yes. yes, Gabe, please.”

“Top ten?” Gabe goes on.

Tyson might fucking kill him, what the fuck. “Yes, fuck me, you’re top ten. You’re top five, top anything,” he mutters, as coherent as he can with Gabe still inside him and his hand still wrapped around Tyson.

Gabe starts moving again then, hard and too fast, but he’s getting it right, and Tyson really is seeing stars now, is only seeing stars, so when Gabe leans in and whispers, “Am I in the top three?” in Tyson’s ear, Tyson has no choice.

“Yeah,” he says. “Fuck, yes, Gabe. Please.”

“Yeah,” Gabe breathes. His hand moves on Tyson’s dick, hard and too dry, but Tyson loves it. “Yeah, you got it,” he says. He starts jerking Tyson off for real then, and it doesn’t take long before Tyson’s coming, his eyes watering with it.

“Gabe, Gabe, Gabe,” he’s saying, and Gabe’s arm is around his stomach, holding him in pace, and it takes maybe ten seconds for Gabe to come, too.

They breathe together after, until Gabe pulls back and Tyson falls face first into the mattress, trying to regain his full senses. Gabe gets off the bed to pad to the bathroom, collapses next to Tyson once he comes back. Tyson turns his head to the side and looks at Gabe’s profile, his hair and his jawline. He gets a little lost in it all, and then his stomach makes a noise and he jumps.

Gabe laughs loudly. He turns to face Tyson, still smiling, and says, “How are you hungry already?”

Tyson rolls his eyes and moves enough to throw a pillow at Gabe. “We just had sex, _Gabriel_ ,” he says in way of explanation.

“Mind-blowing sex,” Gabe corrects. He looks at Tyson and smirks. “Top three, remember,” he says.

Tyson is already regretting that, not because it’s not true because it is, very, but mostly because he just gave Gabe endless ammunition to make fun of him. “I’m taking that back,” Tyson mumbles.

“Ah, ah.” Gabe shakes his head. “Can’t do that,” he says.

Tyson rolls his eyes but he’s amused. “What’s your beef with Ryan’s sex skills anyway?”

Gabe scoffs. “I have no beef,” he say, much too loud not to be hiding something.

“Ah, huh,” Tyson hums.

They lapse into silence after that, and Tyson is caught thinking about what happens next. He thinks about Gabe leaving, and then he remembers the morning with Ryan, how Ryan had only cooked for one, and says, “Get up, we’re eating,” because Tyson doesn't want to be that guy.

Tyson ends up spending the rest of the day with Gabe, and he didn’t expect it to be awkward but he’s glad it isn’t anyway. They order food after approximately twenty minutes of arguing over the best delivery place near Tyson’s house, and then veg out in front of the TV, on opposite ends of the couch.

Tyson thinks about Gabe’s voice as he’d said “am I in the top three?” in Tyson’s ear, and his stomach jumps at random intervals. He touches the light marks on his neck and collarbones and his face heats, and Tyson basically spends the entirety of the afternoon hoping Gabe is obvlious to his stupid reactions.

 

+

The marks have mostly faded by the next morning, but Ryan’s mouth still drops when Tyson takes off his shirt in the dressing room. Tyson notices because he still spends too much time thinking about Ryan, despite everything, and he can’t stop thinking about it for the same reason. Instead he tries to imagine what must be going through Ryan’s mind, if he’s surprised or even jealous, and then he shuts the thought down because that’s a dangerous path to walk down.

Ryan catches himself soon enough and looks away, and Tyson’s just left with his flaming face, angry for no particular reason. He still bumps Ryan’s fist when they go out onto the ice, and he doesn’t ignore him but he wants to.

After practice, Ryan asks Tyson to come over, and Tyson doesn’t really see where this is going but he doesn’t have anything better to do so he agrees. It’s just the two of the, it turns out, and Ryan orders some food and puts in a movie that neither of them have seen before.

Ryan sits close to Tyson on the couch, which isn’t weird in itself, but he keeps shifting closer and closer still as the movie goes on, and all Tyson can think about it how warm Ryan is, how good he feels. He tries to ignore it, because he doesn’t want to make Ryan uncomfortable, but then Ryan puts his hand around Tyson’s shoulders and Tyson thinks maybe Ryan doesn’t want him to ignore it.

He turns towards Ryan and finds Ryan already looking at him, smiling, and Tyson can’t not smile back, not when it comes to Ryan, so he does, and then Ryan’s leaning in and they’re kissing, simple as that, and it’s like the most natural thing Tyson’s felt. He kisses Ryan, and then  throws a leg over his and straddles him, and that’s easy too.

It’s easy to let Ryan’s hands slip under Tyson’s sweater until it isn’t anymore, until Tyson’s got a vivid image of that morning, suddenly, an image that makes him sick, and he pulls away, almost violently. Ryan looks at him with wide eyes and parted lips, and he looks so surprised, it kills Tyson. Because Ryan probably doesn’t even get this.

“I have to go,” Tyson blurts out.

Ryan’s eyes widen even more, and he scrambles to follow Tyson to the door. “Wait - what?” he asks, so painfully confused, and Tyson doesn’t even know what he was thinking coming here.

“I have some stuff to do,” Tyson says noncommittally. He pushes his feet into his shoes and grabs his coat, doesn’t even bother putting it on before walking out.  

He knows Ryan is at the door watching him, so he gets into his car and drives away, stops at the next block to gather his thoughts. He doesn’t want to go home and be alone; he thinks that would be incredibly sad. His heart is pounding in his chest and he wants to tell Nate everything about this, but mostly he wants Gabe to show him top two.

Tyson drives to Gabe’s.

+

“You wanna show me top two?” Tyson asks, once Gabe has the door open.

It takes Gabe a second, to get it, and then he’s crowding Tyson against the wall, their noses brushing and then their lips, and Tyson lets out a breath and sags against the wall, into Gabe. Gabe kisses Tyson hard enough to make his lips tingle and then some, and then kisses his jaw, his neck, over the spots that Ryan stared at this morning.

Tyson clutches at Gabe’s shoulders and tries to hold on, and then Gabe’s rubbing him through his jeans, and Tyson closes his eyes, holds on for dear life because this is just- it's so much, so fast, it has Tyson’s eyes crossing.

“I knew you’d come back,” Gabe is saying, like everything else wasn't enough.

“Jesus, Gabe,” Tyson mutters. His legs are shaking, just a little, and then Gabe’s getting on his knees, right next to the fucking door, and Tyson’s left scrambling at the wall, looking for purchase.

“Oh, god,” Tyson says.

Gabe - Tyson thinks he might chuckle, but his hands are on Tyson’s belt right after, and Tyson doesn’t have much time to think about anything else. He clenches his hands into fists and looks down, almost transfixed, as Gabe pulls his boxers down and takes Tyson into his mouth, and he looks so good, Tyson may be having an existential crisis.

Tyson chokes on his breath when Gabe swallows him down, and he can’t really take it anymore, he reaches out and sinks his fingers into Gabe’s too golden hair, keeps them there when Gabe doesn’t protest.

Gabe chooses that moment to pull back, and Tyson swears, a part of him dies. “Tell me,” Gabe just says. “Tell me if you like it,” he fills in, before Tyson has a chance to ask.

Tyson laughs, this nervous, crazed thing, because his dick is hard and out and wet form Gabe’s mouth and Gabe is asking him to _talk_? “Are you for real?” he asks, when it becomes apparent that Gbae doesn’t care about any of the above.

Gabe nods. He leans in and licks across the head of Tyson’s dick, and, like, Tyson is only human.

“Jesus - okay, I like it,” he lets out, all in one breath.

Gabe smiles and sinks down on Tyson’s dick again, and Tyson’s fingers tighten in his hair, hard enough that it probably stings, though Gabe doesn’t protest. “Keep going,” he just pulls back to say, and Tyson doesn’t get it, why Gabe’s on a single-minded mission to ruin him.

“You - you look so good,” Tyson says, and the words come out choked-up, shaky, and Tyson thinks he can’t be blamed for any of that. “I can’t believe how good you look,” he goes on, and has to laugh, because Gabe always looks about three times as good as Tyson can believe.

Now that Tyson’s talking, Gabe seems content to keep his head moving, only it’s agonizingly slow, a rhythm that has Tyson’s breath coming quick and hard and his legs trembling where they’re trying to hold him up.

“Gabe, please, you - you’re killing me,” Tyson finally says, a groan, and that seems to do it for Gabe, Tyson begging or admitting defeat or something, because he starts moving quicker and quicker still, until all Tyson can hear are the wet sounds of his mouth, all he can feel about the same.

It doesn’t take much for Tyson, after that, until he’s murmuring a, “Gabe,” that has Gabe pulling back, jerking Tyson the rest of the way off.

Tyson lets his head drop back against the wall for a moment, just breathing, and then he looks down and notices how flushed Gabe is, how he’s hard in his sweats, and he thinks _fuck, this got to him too._

The thought has him getting down on his knees, has him pushing Gabe back to lay on his back in the middle of the floor. Has him straddling Gabe’s hips and pulling his sweats down, leaning down to kiss his throat at the same time.

Gabe lets out a shaky breath when Tyson finally gets a hand around him, and his breathing doesn't really improve from there. His hands are on Tyson’s sides, fingers digging into his ribs, and Tyson has such a hard time believing this was all him.

“Tell me,” he mirrors, the words whispered in Gabe’s ear, “Do you like it?”

And that’s pretty much it for Gabe, has him shaking hard under Tyson until he comes, his throat moving under Tyson’s lips.

They stay like that for a little while after, Gabe’s chest moving under Tyson’s, until Tyson’s hand gets tacky and he imagines Gabe’s is even worse.

“So - you wanna stay for lunch?” Gabe asks, after they’ve both washed up.

Tyson came here with his head full of Ryan, and he didn’t realize until now how that was all gone. He thinks he’d like to keep it that way, for now, and for as long as he can. “For sure,” he says.

Gabe smiles, his face lighting up with it, and Tyson ends up helping him cook lunch, even though he’s not the most efficient person in the kitchen. Gabe doesn’t seem to mind; he’s content to show Tyson through what needs to be done, and then he tells him, “Good job,” and Tyson just about dies on the inside.

Tyson’s smiling widely by the time he leaves, and he can’t help but think of how different it is, from the morning he left Ryan’s.

+

They fly out for a road trip the next day. Tyson takes his usual seat next to Nate on the plane, but he catches Ryan watching him a couple of times from a few rows ahead, makes a motion as if to say, “what?” with his hand.

Ryan turns around without saying anything, but he walks with Tyson to his room after the plane lands. He waits until Tyson’s even got his key card out before saying anything, and even then he doesn’t make much sense.

“Hey, so I wanted to apologize,” he says, to which Tyson narrows his eyes.

“Okay,” he says slowly, trying to follow along.

Ryan huffs. “About yesterday,” he explains. He doesn’t seem too willing, more like this is like pulling teeth for him, and Tyson wants to snap and ask him why he’s even doing it then, but instead he presses him.

“What about yesterday?” he asks, and it’s pointed, but he’s still - the memories from that morning are still burning in his mind, and just thinking about that riles him up.

Ryan shakes his head. “Just - it was uncool of me, okay, I shouldn't have come onto you,” he says. He sounds uncomfortable, and Tyson feels victorious all of a sudden, and it’s ugly, he thinks, that hearing Ryan like this pleases him, but Ryan used to be the guy Tyson liked and now he’s the guy who told Tyson he didn’t do guys - including him.

“Are we good?” Ryan asks, impatient.

Tyson’s still a little lost in his thoughts so he just brushes Ryan off. “Sure, it’s all good,” he says.

Ryan nods and turns around to walk down the hall. Tyson lets out a breath and leans against the wall for a second. He turns his head to the side and freezes, because Gabe is there, a couple of rooms over, and surely - he’s close enough to have heard them, and his face, it’s a little pale, and he’s frowning.

“Gabe,” Tyson says. He starts walking towards him, wants to fix this, because he doesn’t want - he doesn’t want to be Gabe’s Ryan. “I - ”

“Is it true?” Gabe cuts him off. He doesn’t sound - he doesn’t sound anything.

Tyson swallows. He nods, then tries to patch it up. “It wasn’t like that though, I stopped him and then…” he trails off, because Gabe just looks impassive.

“You want to get over him, right?” Gabe asks, clearing his throat.

Tyson wants to argue. He wants to say that there’s nothing to get over, but he closes his eyes sometimes and all he can see is Ryan in his kitchen and his one person breakfast. “Yeah,” he says, and he means it, he didn't realize until now just how much he meant it.

“I could help you then,” Gabe says.

Tyson shakes his head. “What?” he asks.

“You heard me.” Gabe shrugs.

“Help me get over him?” Tyson hisses. “How? With crazy hot sex?”

Gab shrugs again, and it’s pretty evident, this is his grand plan here.

“Are you for real?” Tyson asks.

“Worked for the first two times,” Gabe argues.

Tyson opens his mouth to say something, except Gabe’s got a point, as strange as it is. He narrows his eyes at Gabe. “What do you get out of it?” he asks.

Gabe laughs nervously. “Is crazy hot sex not enough of an incentive?”

Tyson downright flushes at that, and from the looks of it, Gabe sees it, too. Gabe smiles, a little, hands shoves in his pockets. “Shut up,” Tyson says. Then, “Okay.”

Gabe’s smile shifts then, from amused to mildly predatory, and Tyson feels too hot in his clothes having it directed at him. “Shut up,” he says again. “And quit looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” Gabe asks innocently.

“Like - ” Tyson waves a hand around in Gabe’s direction. “You know what I mean, come on.” It comes out a little whinny, which makes Gabe’s smile even wider.

Tyson gives up and slips his card in the key slot to Gabe’s laughter behind him.

+

Gabe texts Tyson after they get back home, a  simple, _wanna come over_ , that has Tyson flushing down to his chest in some weird pavlovian response. He texts back _be there in a bit_ trying to play it cool, even though he’s sure he doesn’t fool Gabe for one second.

It is fair to say, once Tyson gets there, he expects some sort of mind blowing sex to go down, as has become tradition, but instead what he gets is Gabe in an apron, a red and green Christmas one with a tree on it, and a bunch of stuff laid out on the kitchen table.

“What is happening?” Tyson asks, once he takes all this in.

Gabe laughs and doesn’t answer. He bends over to open one of the bottom drawers, and Tyson stares at his ass. He’s not proud of it, it just happens. He comes out of it when Gabe straightens back up to throw a second apron at him.

“We’re making brownies,” Gabe says, in way of explanation.

Tyson’s stomach, never one to turn food down, jumps happily at the thought, and Tyson ties the apron around his waist. “Okay,” he says easily. He thinks Gabe’s cooking is pretty good, he’s up for trying out his baking as well.

“What do you need me to do?” Tyson asks.

Gabe looks at him for a moment too long, thoughtful, and then he turns to the cutting board set out on the table. He hands Tyson two chocolate bars and instructs him to cut it. Tyson thinks that’s pretty easy, so he gets down to it after watching his hands, sneaking a piece into his mouth every now and then.

Gabe comes over to inspect his work after Tyson’s done, and he eyes the cutting board suspiciously. “Hmm,” he says.

“What?” Tyson asks. He thinks he did a pretty good job. Is there a wrong way to cut up chocolate, after all?

“I think there’s some missing,” Gabe says thoughtfully.

Tyson splutters. “No,” he says, adamant. “That's all of it.”

Gabe hums again. He turns around to face Tyson and curves a hand over Tyson’s jaw, tilting Tyson’s head towards him. Gabe just looks at Tyson for a moment, and then he leans in, kisses him deeply, until Tyson’s toes are curling in his socks. Tyson’s still holding onto the knife he used to the chocolate, and he carefully lays it on the table, turns his full attention to Gabe.

“You taste like it,” Gabe says. His voice is rough and he sounds pretty far gone to be honest. He still has it together enough to say, “You taste like chocolate, and there’s chocolate missing. Seems pretty straightforward to me.”

Tyson chuckles. He leans in to kiss Gabe again and murmurs, “busted,” against his lips. Then, a little more brave, “You gonna punish me?”

Gabe pulls back, slowly, to kiss the corner of Tyson’s mouth, his cheekbone; his way to Tyson’s ear. “You want me to punish you?” he asks, and he doesn’t judgemental but he doesn’t sound too enthusiastic either, just - neutral.

Tyson takes a breath. “Yes,” he says, pressing himself against Gabe. He gets to watch as Gabe’s smile spreads across his face, and, honestly, Gabe looks so good when he’s smiling, it’s baffling.

“How?” Gabe asks, and Tyson’s come to the conclusion that it’s his favorite thing to do, to make Tyson talk when he’s like this.

“Just - ” Tyson shakes his head. “However you think,” he says.

Gabe’s smile drops from his face and he looks at Tyson with this - he looks at Tyson like he’s hungry, suddenly. He leans in and kisses Tyson again hard, and Tyson closes his eyes, curves his body in to Gabe’s, and kisses back, as much as he can.

Tyson can feel how Gabe’s hard, and it does something to him, knowing that Gabe wants this as much as Tyson, and he rocks their hips together, feels his mouth fall open at the feel of Gabe against him like this.

Gabe takes the opportunity to kiss Tyson’s jaw, his way down Tyson’s neck, and then he sneaks his fingers under Tyson’s jumper and pulls it off to his wrists, holds it there. Tyson lets out a breath when he realizes his wrists are trapped but he doesn’t try to fight the hold Gabe’s got on him, just tilts his head back so Gabe can run his lips across his neck again.

Tyson thinks Gabe’s got a thing for this, too, maybe, because this seems to be favorite spot, but he’s not going to be hearing any complaints about it from Tyson.

“Gabe,” Tyson just says, and then Gabe’s pulling back, reaching for the mixing bowl on the kitchen counter, and by the time Tyson realizes what's happening there’s chocolate batter on his collarbones, dripping down his chest and over his nipples.

“Fuck,” Tyson says, and Gabe is looking at him like he could eat him alive, which Tyson supposes isn’t too far off from reality.

Gabe leans in and latches his lips over Tyson’s collarbones, where the batter mostly landed, and he licks across the skin, picking all the chocolate up on his tongue.

“Jesus christ,” Tyson’s saying. His hands are still held in place by the jumper, and he could easily get them untangled but he doesn’t want to, so he just leans against the table and lets Gabe lick up all the chocolate. He chokes on his breath when Gabe makes it down his nipples, shivers when he feels Gabe's tongue on his skin again.

Once all the chocolate is gone, Gabe kisses his way back up to Tyson’s ear, whispers, “Turn around,” low enough for Tyson to shudder all over before complying.

Tyson can’t see what Gabe is doing like this, and he jumps when more batter lands on the small of his back, jumps again harder when Gabe leans down to lick it up.

“You taste so sweet,” Gabe is saying, which - Tyson doesn’t, that’s just the batter, but the words make him blush anyway, hard and down to his chest.

“Fuck,” he says, shivering when Gabe palms his ass over his jeans. Gabe takes his hand away then, but before Tyson can protest Gabe’s hand is coming down on his ass, hard. Tyson still wearing his jeans so it’s pretty muted, but he jumps anyway, hard enough that he knocks his hip into the kitchen table.

“Good?” Gabe asks him, soft, his hand rubbing over the small of Tyson’s back.

Gabe waits for Tyson to nod, waits even longer for Tyson to say, “yes,” and then his hands are on Tyson’s belt, getting it undone, and he’s pushing Tyson’s jeans and his boxers down his thighs.

Tyson feels so naked like this, with Gabe watching him, and a little ashamed, but it all just gets him hotter, and he arches his back, asking for it. He still chokes when Gabe hits him again, softer this time but just as stinging.

“You’re good,” Gabe tells him, and then his hand is coming down again, hard and burning across Tyson’s cheek, and Tyson imagines someone seeing Gabe’s mark on his ass, and the thought has him rubbing off against the table, has Gabe’s hand coming down hard and reprimanding.

“Wait for it,” Gabe says, disappointed, and Tyson stills, face hot with embarrassment. “Be good for me and wait,” Gabe goes on, and it’s killing Tyson, his words and his hand too, coming down on his ass.

“Yeah,” he stills says, and braces for the next hit only it never comes. Gabe just rubs the skin of his ass, and his hand feels so hot against Tyson’s skin, feels dragging, and Tyson tries to breathe and can’t. “Please,” he says, and Gabe gets it.

He hits Tyson again, gentler this time but it doesn’t much matter, and Tyson’s eyes are stinging even though Gabe isn’t hitting him that hard. Tyson’s breath is coming quick and hard, and he shakes when the next blow lands, arching away from it.

“Three more, okay?” Gabe says, quiet, and Tyson is so hard. He thinks he shouldn’t be this hard, not from this, but his head is so full already, he can’t even bear to think about that now. “Tyson?”

“Yeah.” Tyson nods. “Yes, please,” he says, and the last slips out, he didn’t even mean to say it.

“Okay,” Gabe says, quiet.

The next three are both easier and harder, and Tyson’s skin burns so much, his lashes clumping together with it, and his vision is blurry, and he doesn’t even care. When Gabe lands the third one, Tyson sags against the table, letting it take all of his weight. He breathes, and feels Gabe kiss his way down his spine, feels batter land on his right cheek, then the left, and feels Gabe’s tongue licks over it, over the batter and the red skin.

“Gabe,” Tyson breathes, because this is too much, he can’t hold off anymore, he - he has to. “Please.”

“Yeah, okay,” Gabe says, the words spoken into Tyson’s skin, and Tyson’s driven crazy with it.

He finally reaches between Tyson and the table and wraps a hand around his dick, and Tyson breathes out in relief at the pressure. Gabe starts jerking Tyson off, and keeps licking and kissing him at random intervals, and Tyson is dying on the inside, it’s confirmed.

Tyson makes the most embarrassing noise when he comes, and he would be ashamed of it except he’s all out of it, by now. Instead he starts thanking Gabe, profusely, until Gabe leans over him and kisses him to shut him up. Gabe tastes like chocolate, and Tyson can’t get enough of it.

Tyson can hear the sounds of Gabe jerking himself off, and he arches his back, lets out another noise when he feels Gabe’s come on him, on his waist, and he shouldn't find this hot either but he does, so sue him.

Gabe wipes him clean after, with a bunch of wet paper towels, and helps Tyson sit up, leans in to kiss him.

“Okay?” he asks. His hand is on the small of Tyson’s back, and he looks worried, a little, and he’s looking at Tyson so intently, and Tyson - he has such an intense moment of deja vu. He looks at Gabe thinks _yes, I like him_ , and his stomach dips and jumps at the same time, his lips stretch into a smile while his mind is too busy freaking out.

Gabe, oblivious to all this, leans down and kisses Tyson, soft. His hands move to untangle the mess that has before of Tyson’s sweater, and then Tyson’s got his arms free and he can finally wrap them around Gabe.

The thing is, Gabe never made food only for one. He never told Tyson to leave because he didn’t do guys. He didn’t wait for Tyson and him to have sex before admitting that, and he never hit on Tyson after just because he was jealous or because he thought Tyson would be easy for him.

Gabe is not that guy. Gabe is not Ryan, and Tyson wouldn’t want him to be.

+

Tyson doesn’t realize just how real that thought is until the next day, when he sees Ryan and then he sees Gabe, and gets a fistbump from Ryan and a genuine smile from Gabe, and sees how wildly those two clash.

After practice, Ryan comes over and asks Tyson if he wants to hang out, Nate, Tyson and Ryan, the three of them, and Tyson almost says sure before he shuts his mouth to think about it. The truth it, he doesn’t know why he’s doing this to himself. He doesn’t want Gabe to be Ryan but he wants Ryan to want him, and he keeps thinking that will happen the more time they spend together, when it just won’t.

Ryan has made his position clear, and Tyson should have caught on a long time ago. He should have caught on the first time Ryan told him he didn’t do this often, and he should have already gotten it before Ryan kicked him out.

Fuck, Tyson hates this feeling.

Ryan is still looking at him though, expectant, and Tyson says, “no,” and feels oddly liberated for it.

“You have plans?” Ryan asks. He runs a hand through his hair, pushes it out of his face.

Tyson wants to laugh. “No,” he says.

“What? You just don’t wanna hang out with us?” he chuckles a little, like the prospect of that is laughable. And it is, because Tyson made it that way.

Tyson sighs. “Ryan, I - ” He looks around to make sure they’re alone and goes on, “I need time.”

“Time,” Ryan repeats, and it’s clear he's not getting it.

“To get over you,” Tyson admits, and he can’t even bear to look at him.

“Tyson,” Ryan says, and it sounds - Tyson doesn’t want to think about how it sounds. “I - ”

“You hurt me,” Tyson says, all in a rush. His face burns as soon as the words are out, but he doesn’t regret them. “You hurt me, Ryan. I need time to get over that.”

Ryan is quiet for a long moment, Tyson just wants to run off to his car and hide forever. “I’m sorry,” Ryan says finally, and it kills Tyson, how genuine it sounds. “I never meant to, I just thought…” he trails off, like he can tell he’s making it worse. “I’m sorry,” he finishes weakly.

Tyson nods. “Okay,” he says. He gets ready to leave but Ryan reaches out to grabs his arms, stills him.

“Can we still be friends?” he asks, low and soft, and what is Tyson even supposed to say to that.

“Yeah,” he says, and he means it, as much as he can. “Yeah, just give me some time.”

Ryan lets go of Tyson and raises his hands up. “You got it,” he says. He smiles at Tyson after, and it doesn’t do anything for him, not like Gabe’s smile.

Tyson smiles back.

+

Tyson waits until later in the afternoon to text Nate, in case he’s still hanging out with Ryan, and even then, it’s a generic, _you free?_ because he doesn’t want to give too much away. Nate texts back three seconds later, asking Tyson if everything is okay.

_yeah, just wanted to talk some stuff out_

_wanna call?_

_cool if i come over instead?_

_sure :)_ , Nate texts back, which has Tyson smiling down at his phone.

Nate opens the door before Tyson even has a chance to knock, and then he sits Tyson on the couch and waits him out.

“I’ve been - I’ve been having a thing with Gabe,” Tyson admits finally. He glances at Nate’s face, expects disapprovement or even something worse, but Nate just looks confused.

“How long?” he asks.

“Just a few times. Not too long,” Tyson says.

If anything, Nate looks even more confused now. “How come you didn’t tell me?” he asks, and he sounds a little sad, and Tyson hates that so much.

“I thought you wouldn't like it,” Tyson says, head bent and shoulders slumped.

Nate snorts. “Wouldn't like it?” he repeats. “It was about time,” he says.

That has Tyson looking up, has his eyes narrowing. “About time,” he says.

“I mean he’s been into you for so long, it’s a surprise it didn't happen sooner.” Nate shrugs.

“Into me,” Tyson repeats stupidly.

“Yeah, like - ” Nate freezes, finally taking everything in. “Oh no,” he says. “You didn’t know.”

Tyson shakes his head. “I didn’t know.”

“I… okay, so, if you could scratch everything I've said up to this point, that’d be great,” Nate says. He looks a little red, and he’s clearly regretting this, but what.

“No, no, no,” Tyson says. “You don’t get to do that. You need to start talking, right now.”

Nate sighs. “It’s not really my story to tell, Tys,” he hedges.

Tyson presses his lips together. “You just said it!” he points out.

Nate looks to the side. “I really don’t know what to tell you. Gabe just got drunk one night and told me he liked you, that’s all, I swear,” he finally says.

Tyson - he thinks about the day at the hotel, where Gabe overheard him and Ryan talking. He thinks about how that must have felt, if he likes Tyson, as Nate said. Then he thinks about Gabe’s beef with Ryan’s sex skills, how intent he is on showing Tyson the best sex of his life.

Tyson thinks about how Gabe smiles at him, widely and fully, and how he makes Tyson feel, and he - “I need to talk to Gabe.”

“Tyson,” Nate says, and Tyson thinks Nate’s going to try and stop him for sure, but he just says, “Good luck,” instead.

“Thanks, buddy,” Tyson says.

“Also maybe don’t mention I was the one who spilled everything,” Nate goes on.

Tyson rolls his eyes and leaves.

+

It takes Gabe a minute to get the door, and he looks worried when he sees Tyson standing on the other side of it. “Everything okay?” he asks.

Tyson pushes past him to get inside, and then just - can’t come up with anything better than, “Go out on a date with me.”

Gabe’s eyes grow wide and panicked, and he looks around, frantic. “Uh…”

“Go out on a date with me,” Tyon says again. “I know you want to,” he goes on.

That makes Gabe’s head snap back into place, and he squints at Tyson. He looks suspicious before it shifts into resigned, and this was never Tyson’s intention. “Nate told you, didn’t he?” he says, and it’s not really a question. “Fuck.”

“He didn’t mean to,” Tyson tries to reassure him. “It was an accident.”

“Right,” Gabe says, and it doesn't really sound like he believes it.

“Was he lying?” Tyson presses. His heart is beating in his throat, and he’s pretty sure he won’t be able to handle much more rejection, but he thinks - Gabe is worth this, he has to be.

Gabe looks away.

“He wasn’t, was he,” Tyson says.

Gabe looks at him, and it looks like he’s in pain to have to say this. “I can’t.”

Tyson’s stomach drops and curls tightly at the same time, but he can’t go through this again. “Why?” he asks, pointed.

Gabe scoffs. “You’re so hung up over Ryan, you can’t even see it,” he says, the words sharp. Then, quieter, Gabe says, “How am I supposed to compete with that?”

Tyson tries to put himself in Gabe’s shoes, and he hates all that he’s put Gabe through so far. He hates himself for that, and he wants to spend so much time making up for it, if Gabe will let him. “You don’t have to,” Tyson tells him.

Tyson looks at Gabe, and looks at the distance between them and then crosses it in three long strides. They’re so close, like this, and Tyson can feels Gabe’s breathing, his nerves radiating off of him in waves. “You don’t have to,” he says again.

Gabe still won’t look at Tyson, but his face is just so sad, and Tyson never wanted that. “You don’t have to because I don’t - I don’t think about him, when we kiss,” he says. That makes Gabe look at him, gives Tyson the courage he needs to go on, “When we’re together, I don’t imagine you’re Ryan instead. I know it’s you. I’m _happy_ it’s you.”

“Tyson - ” Gabe tries but Tyson has so much to say now.

“You know me so well, and you make me happy, that’s all you,” he says. His voice is getting thick, but he refuses to get emotional about this, this is bad enough without Tyson’s goddamn tears getting in the way. “So go out on a date with me, let me return the favor,” he finishes.

Tyson can see Gabe caving, and it makes his heart beat quicker, makes him stand up straighter.

“I don’t want to be your rebound,” Gabe says quietly.

Tyson shakes his head. “I wouldn't let you be,” he says with certainty. He takes another step closer to Gabe where there’s no closer to get, and presses against him, leans in until their lips almost touch. “Go out on a date with me,” he says, the words spoken against Gabe’s lips. “And then you can have all the spots in my top twenty.”

Gabe’s lips stretch into a smile at that, and Tyson’s stomach flutters at the sight.

“That’s better,” he says, and then he leans in and kisses Gabe, walks them back into the wall and kisses Gabe there too, and in every other part of the house.

+

For their date, Tyson suggests the two of them go out bowling. He thinks that’s a pretty good idea, and he’s a decent bowler so he may even impress Gabe with his skills. What Tyson didn’t account for was his sweaty hands and how he struggles grip the ball properly.

Gabe laughs at him, kind of quiet and soft, more like he thinks Tyson is funny rather than anything mean. Tyson looks at him and mostly wants to kiss him, but he can’t, not right now, so he settles for knocking their shoulders together before going to pick up another bowling ball, continuing his futile attempts to impress Gabe.

“I’m already impressed,” Gabe tells him, like he can read all this. “You don’t have to work for it.”

And Tyson flushes so hard, splutters around for something clever to say and instead can only blurt out the truth, “I want to,” and, “You deserve it.” He wants to slap himself across the face as soon as the words are out, but then he sees Gabe’s face, how it’s softened and grown oddly thoughtful, and shoving his foot in his mouth has never felt so good.

Tyson bowls zero strikes, but that’s okay, because he’s landed the biggest strike of them all.

 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading :)
> 
> i also have a [tumblr](http://tboobs.tumblr.com/)!


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